


a desert in my heart and nowhere to hide

by endofadream



Series: taking this one step at a time [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Steve Rogers, Daddy Bucky, Daddy Kink, Facials, Fluff, Hair-pulling, M/M, Top Bucky Barnes, Unashamed filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: Steve struggles to push himself upright, already muttering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” and stops when Bucky’s metal hand clamps down onto the back of his neck. It’s hardly more than its usual gentle hold, but immediately Steve melts, tension leeching from his body even as his heart pounds in his chest.Bucky draws in a ragged breath behind him. “Is that what you want?” he asks after a pause.





	a desert in my heart and nowhere to hide

One of the first German words Steve can remember learning is _verbotene_. How, don’t ask him; it came before the war, before Germany took its stance. In a way, Steve sometimes thinks with a wry twist of his mouth, he and Germany have a lot in common. Both were targeted by those stronger than them, and both had to pay. At least Steve didn't come out the other side the way they did, though.

Maybe Steve learned it because he had so many forbidden things and it seemed only right. Give it a different sort of name, jazz it up, make it not sound as bad as it is. _Verbotene liebe._ Sure sounds better than forbidden love.

And, oh. Did Steve have that.

Gray-eyed, brown-haired forbidden love. Not so forbidden now in this century, but Steve somehow still doubts that the public will accept without question that the world’s deadliest assassin is in love with their All-American Icon. Which is fine by him; Steve gets so little that’s just _his_ , and he’d like to keep Bucky that way.

Even if that could be widely accepted, Steve knows one thing that wouldn’t, and it’s currently beating at the backs of his teeth in time with the unforgiving punch-thrust of Bucky’s hips against his ass. Every muffled whine is a struggle, and Christ, _Jesus_ , Steve is aching to say something.

Bucky is so cautious with his metal hand even at Steve’s repeated urgings not to be: currently it’s gently holding onto Steve’s hip while his flesh fingers tangle in his hair and tug his head back. Steve grunts, the noise choked off when Bucky tugs a little harder, bending Steve into a lazy U-shape.

It’s so easy to lose himself in it, the wet slap of skin and Bucky’s drawled filth in a thick accent that eases the permanent homesickness on Steve’s heart. Steve has contemplated going back now that Bucky is here again, but it is and isn't his city at the same time. With Bucky back, it’d be a little easier, but Steve finds himself wanting something new. Something theirs. They’ve had their past and now, Steve thinks, they need their future.

“Buck,” he breathes, reaching blindly behind himself until Bucky’s fingers find his, his other hand releasing his hair. He squeezes, tipping his head back on a moan when Bucky’s metal hand carefully cups his balls and glides over the straining length of him. That hand trails up Steve’s torso as Bucky bends down, cupping Steve’s pec and twisting the peaked nub of his nipple gently.

Pushing Steve’s legs a little closer together to bracket his thighs with his own, Bucky fucks in hard and grinds his hips against Steve’s ass. Steve moans, and Bucky says, “Yeah, sugar, you like that?” in a hoarse voice that makes Steve’s toes curl.

Steve isn't sure if it’s Bucky’s tone, or his choice of endearment, or whatever, but he keens, dipping his back more and widening his stance best he can with Bucky’s strong thighs squeezing his own. He drops his hand back down to the mattress to support himself. Bucky’s balls slap against his and his pubic hair is rough against Steve’s ass and Steve has never felt so owned, so helpless and trapped like he does now.

The thought doesn’t cross his mind for more than a second when he whines, “Yes, Daddy, _yes_.”

Bucky stills, and Steve stills, his face and neck growing so hot he thinks he may burn himself. No. No, no, _god no_ , Bucky isn't supposed to know, Bucky doesn't _need_ to know. This was supposed to remain a fucked-up fantasy, not blurted out in the middle of sex like every single worst-case scenario, and oh _god_ this is happening, it really is. Bucky is still balls-deep inside him and Steve just called him _Daddy_.

Steve struggles to push himself upright, already muttering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” and stops when Bucky’s metal hand clamps down onto the back of his neck. It’s hardly more than its usual gentle hold, but immediately Steve melts, tension leeching from his body even as his heart pounds in his chest.

Bucky draws in a ragged breath behind him. “Is that what you want?” he asks after a pause. The stilted way his words come out make Steve feel hot all over, this time in a good way. Slow, Bucky grinds his cock in deeper, nudging Steve’s sweet spot. Steve jerks, whines, and Bucky grips harder, asks, “Did you want me to be your daddy, sweetheart?”

It’s like it knocks something loose instead Steve with a harsh clang; suddenly he can’t stop rambling, can’t stop working himself the best he can on Bucky’s cock just to _feel_ it inside him. “Yes, _please_ , fuck,” he says in a voice that’s almost too high-pitched to be his. “Please, oh, please, Da—Daddy. _Daddy._ Wanted this for so long— _oh_ , fuck me.”

Bucky moans and grips Steve’s chin, turning his head to the side to kiss him, licking in deep and filthy. “My darling, my baby,” he coos hot against Steve’s mouth. It’s hard to focus this close but Steve can see that Bucky’s eyes are dark. Bucky nips at Steve’s lower lip, then kisses him in time with the roll of his hips.

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, running his hands down the sweat-slick flex of muscles along Steve’s back. They stop at the cinch of Steve’s waist, gripping tightly, and Steve drops his head, panting hot into the humid space between his body and the mattress. He’s so hard it’s like the ache has spread throughout the entirety of him; right now he wants more than he’s ever wanted in his entire life.

“What do you think they’d say,” continues Bucky, just as breathless and wrecked-sounding as Steve, “if they could see you now? Big, strong Captain America taking the Winter Soldier’s cock and begging for his daddy. What do you think that looks like, baby doll?”

Bucky is touching on things Steve never even _dreamed_ could turn him on. He mewls and claws at the sheets, arching futilely up against the hard plane of Bucky’s stomach. He knows what it looks like: it looks like all the filthy things he’d never let himself have before the war, those fantasies and furtive sessions under the covers once Bucky’s breathing deepened across the room. Back when Bucky could have pinned him to the bed with one hand and not much of an effort.

Steve shudders. Bucky doesn’t stop the steady piston of his hips and the muted smack of sweaty skin only serves to make Steve more desperate. Bucky could still pin him, because Steve may be strong but Bucky reduces him to a weak, gasping mess every time.

“Yeah,” says Bucky, low and dirty and with the audible hint of a smirk. “Yeah, you know exactly what that looks like, baby boy.”

“Please,” Steve gasps, arching his neck back. “Buck—ah, _Daddy_ , I—I need…”

“What do you need, gorgeous?” Bucky croons, sliding his flesh hand along the taut expanse of Steve’s neck. His fingers press in, just slightly, on Steve’s windpipe, and it makes Steve nearly go cross-eyed with how much he _wants_.

Bucky is so hot and hard and big inside him that Steve can’t focus on much else. It’s not for lack of trying; every time he opens his mouth he moans instead as Bucky’s rhythm stays steady and deep, just the way Steve likes to be fucked. Finally, with an aborted groan and a herculean effort, Steve swallows his next moan and manages to get out “Wanna see you.”

Thin and reedy and practically dripping with lust, it makes Bucky growl low in his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, biting at the back of Steve’s neck before flipping him roughly, the mattress bouncing as Steve’s shoulders come into contact with it. Then his legs are being pushed up, up, until he’s bent in half and gasping out short, labored breaths. Wordlessly he takes hold of the backs of his knees, spreading himself open, knowing without knowing what, exactly, Bucky wants.

Bucky swears, guiding his cock in and pushing in deep with the filthy wet squelch of lube. Steve keens, half the noise lost to Bucky’s mouth as he kisses him. God, he loves Bucky, loves him so fucking _much_ that he fears he might finally just explode from it all.

When he pulls back Bucky’s eyes are dark, hair wild from Steve’s insistent fingers tugging and directing when they were making out. He’s so dangerously beautiful, like a well-crafted sword when it catches the light and gleams. But the tender way he presses their mouths together, flesh hand stroking Steve’s cheek and metal arm holding him up, is the love-smitten Brooklyn boy that has never changed.

“Oh, baby,” murmurs Bucky, thumb sliding down over Steve’s lower lip. He bites his own as he does it, sucks in a sharp breath when Steve touches the pad of his thumb with his tongue. “Christ, _Stevie_. Why’d ya wait so fuckin’ long to tell me this, huh?” He exhales an uneven breath, hips stuttering forward. “You got no idea, _no idea_.”

“Daddy,” whines Steve. He looks at Bucky through hazy eyes. Stares at the dip of Bucky’s throat, the sweat gleaming on his chest. Looking further, Steve sees his indecency, spread open as he is with a cock deep in his ass, and has to close his eyes against the accompanying rush of absolute desire that overtakes him. He says it again, “ _Daddy_ ,” touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth and begs _please_.

Bucky’s arms slide up under Steve’s shoulders, pulling him up. “I got you,” he croons, directing Steve to wrap his legs around Bucky’s waist. “Oh, my good baby boy, I got you. Daddy’s got you.”

“Oh,” Steve whimpers, eyes sliding closed as Bucky starts fucking into him. The words melt over him, warm and sweet where they touch. It’s like a euphoria he’s never experienced, like finally capturing a high he’s been chasing for years.

His arms go around Bucky’s neck; chest to chest he can feel the race of Bucky’s heartbeat, the thick way he swallows when Steve clumsily presses his nose and mouth to the side of Bucky’s neck.

Lost in this feeling, trapped with the weight of Bucky’s body against him, Steve forgets why he was scared in the first place. Why would he even need to be scared? Bucky takes care of him, just like he did back when Steve was small and sick. Not even HYDRA could get rid of that.

"Daddy," Steve says, over and over, letting it roll off his tongue and hang in the humid air between them. Steve lets his eyes close and his body take what it’s given, shudders when Bucky grunts and moans when Bucky’s cock drags just right. The latter has him arching as far as he’s able, digging his nails into the thick muscle of Bucky’s right shoulder and the hard metal of his left.

It feels a bit like treading water in the middle of the ocean, but Steve rides the wave of uncertainty greedily, soaking in more and more, pushing when he thinks things can go further. After more than seventy years Steve has seen everything from Bucky; he knows Bucky’s verbal and nonverbal cues as well as he does his own.

This, however. This is like their first time all over again. When Steve opens his eyes the first thing to come into focus is Bucky’s face, tinged pink, lips parted, eyes locked to Steve’s like he’s never seen anything quite as stunning as this. It makes his heart swell, almost too fast for him to handle; he cries out wordlessly, something sharp and vulnerable-sounding.

“My baby boy,” Bucky says. His voice is at once rough and soft, like the palm of his hand as he slides it out from under Steve’s back and rests it on Steve’s cheek. His metal hand follows next, propping him up to tower just slightly over Steve. How it makes him _ache_. “God, look at you. You’re so strong but you’re letting me see this beautiful side of you. How’d I get so lucky, huh? How did I deserve such a pretty baby like you?”

Fuck, oh fuck. Steve’s eyes squeeze shut again. He tightens his legs around Bucky’s waist, drawing him in closer, and leans into the warm pressure of Bucky’s hand on his face. They rock together, Bucky’s balls warm and soft against the crease of Steve’s ass when he thrusts deep and holds it, kissing Steve with a single-minded purpose that makes his toes curl.

Steve drags his nails down the damp skin of Bucky’s back, feeling Bucky’s sharp inhale and the flex of muscle as he shudders. His hips snap forward hard, two, three times, an echoing clap of skin-to-skin.

“When you said my name,” murmurs Bucky, “on that bridge? The first thing that came back to me was this. The way you looked under me. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.” He presses his forehead to Steve’s and rolls his hips in those sharp thrusts that make Steve grunt. When he speaks again, Steve can hear the tears in his voice. “They tried to weed you out of me so many times but you kept fuckin’ _comin’ back_.”

Steve blindly seeks Bucky’s mouth. It’s not quite kissing, but it’s more intimate, in Steve’s opinion, like this, breathing in the same air. Letting Bucky— _his daddy_ a voice in the back of his mind says—take care of him, make him feel good. He’s so hard he’s trembling with it, thigh muscles straining as he tries to meet every roll of Bucky’s hips with his own.

“Daddy,” he whimpers, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s long hair. His belly is slick with pre-come and his cock throbs steadily between his legs and he wants so much, so _badly_. He is so close his back hitches off the bed with every stuttered breath. When Bucky slides nearly all the way out, just the very head of his cock still inside Steve, the slide back in, the filling hard heavy weight, has him sobbing.

“Please,” he begs. What he’s begging for he’s not sure, but it doesn’t matter. Bucky is kissing him again and fucking him harder, harder. The springs creak and the headboard rocks into the wall and Steve is consumed, overwhelmed, filled to the brim and spilling over with it.

He gasps. “Daddy.” Heat zings through him, pooling low in his belly and making him twitch and spread his legs. He tosses his head back, digging it into the pillow underneath him. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He works his right hand between them, takes Steve’s cock in his grip and squeezes. Steve cries out and Bucky says, “You gonna come for me, pretty baby?” He strokes Steve tight and fast. His eyes are dark and focused, lower lip between his teeth as he watches Steve’s face.

Steve whimpers and nods, breathes out _Daddy_ again and again. He’s so close every breath is a gasp, and every line of his body is taut.

Bucky squeezes just under the head of his cock and says, “You gonna come for Daddy?” and that’s it.

He’s coming, thick and hot between them and over Bucky’s hand. He thinks he’s wailing, spasming, but he can’t be sure because it feels so good, it’s so much, he doesn’t _care_ , not when Bucky is taking care of him.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. His thrusts have grown erratic, seeking his own pleasure rather than any sort of finesse. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby. You’re so hot, so goddamn hot, sugar. Did you know that? Fuck, just watching you.” Bucky drops his head, panting, hair curtaining around his face. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“In my mouth,” begs Steve, delirious with pleasure and drunk on this feeling of love and contentment. All that he knows is that he needs Bucky to come more than anything. “Please, _please_ , Daddy.”

“You want me to come in your mouth? All over your pretty face?”

Steve nods, eyes half-lidded as he looks up at the dark curtain of hair framing Bucky’s face, the light from the lamp on their bedside haloing around him. He wets his mouth and asks again, “Please.”

“So good,” Bucky murmurs. Untangling Steve’s legs, he slowly slides out, then crawls up the bed until he’s straddling Steve’s chest. Steven can feel the quake of Bucky’s thighs around him, and it makes him preen somewhere underneath the haze. It’s so difficult for Bucky to lose control, almost like he’s got something to prove, but here he is. Chest heaving, cock swollen and red and slick with lube between his legs, twitching in one sharp, brief movement.

He’s like this because of Steve. _Steve_ did this to him. To his _Daddy_.

Steve has, quite honestly, never experienced something this erotic in his entire life. And that’s saying something, considering most other people can’t say they’ve lived to be a hundred years old with the stamina of a twenty-something.

Even he can feel how wide his eyes are when he looks up at Bucky. It could be passed off as part of the act, this whole quasi-innocence thing, but Steve always gets this breathless and wide-eyed when it comes to Bucky. When Bucky’s fingers curl around his cock Steve whimpers; when he gives himself a long, slow stroke Steve’s lips part. Want rolls through him so powerfully he feels immobilized by it, helpless like a bug trapped under a pin.

A full-body shudder runs through Bucky. He raises up slightly, then lowers, metal hand dropping to Steve’s chest while his right hand moves faster, a slick, dirty sound that drowns out their combined breathy moans.

Swallowing and wetting his lips, Bucky rasps, “Gonna come, baby. Daddy’s so close. Do you want it?”

“ _Yes_.”

“All over that beautiful face? Those fucking amazing eyelashes? Over your pretty mouth and on your filthy tongue?”

Christ. Between his legs Steve’s cock jerks, a hot jolt of pleasure running through him. He reaches out and grabs Bucky by the backs of his thighs, holding tight, dropping his mouth open and closing his eyes to half-lid. Wordlessly he nods, whines, and Bucky’s jaw tightens as he tosses his head back.

It doesn’t take long, _can’t_ take long at this point with the way Bucky’s cock is drooling in his hand, sticky clear slick pooling on Steve’s chest. Bucky’s abs clench and unclench as he rolls his hips, fucking up into his fist. His orgasm happens so suddenly that Steve can see the surprise lined in Bucky’s brows before his face goes slack with pleasure and Steve closes his eyes.

The first warm splash has him twitching in surprise when it streaks across his cheek. Bucky’s low groan heats Steve to the very tips of his ears as come streaks over his nose and eyebrow, then across his lips and into his mouth. Bucky swears roughly, the slick sound of his hand slowing as the last of it spills over Steve’s neck and the hollow of his throat. Then Steve darts his tongue out to lick up what he can.

“Fuck,” rumbles Bucky. The cool pressure of his left hand cradles Steve’s jaw, and he’s leaning down, kissing him sloppy, messy, licking up the come over Steve’s lips and feeding it to him in lazy thrusts of his tongue. Steve kisses him back greedily, grabbing a fistful of Bucky’s hair and chasing the taste of himself with a low moan.

With one last lingering, sucking kiss Bucky rolls off and onto his back on the mattress next to Steve. Once he’s carefully blinked his eyes open, Steve sits up and reaches for the tissues on the nightstand, cleaning away what’s left on his face, then what's on his stomach and chest.

Beside him Bucky is supine, spread luxuriously like a Greek statue unashamed of its marble nakedness. The bruises Steve had left earlier on the insides of Bucky’s thighs are already fading, as well as the bite mark on his right pec. Bucky’s eyes are closed, mouth turned up in a small smile.

“Just ‘cause my eyes are closed don’t mean I can’t feel you staring at me, punk.”

It makes Steve laugh softly. “Who said I was starin’? That makes it seem like I got something indecent planned.”

That has Bucky cracking one eye open and craning his neck. He looks from himself to Steve, then back again, arching a brow. “Think you already had something indecent planned.”

Heat colors Steve’s cheeks again. Reaching an arm up to rub awkwardly at his neck he says, “Listen, um. About that. I didn’t mean to spring it on you, it just sort of—happened. We don’t have to talk about it ever again.”

At this Bucky sits up on his elbow, giving Steve such a look of disbelief that all Steve can do is blink silently at him. “Are you serious?” says Bucky. “That orgasm was in the top ten I’ve had since I got back.”

Steve blinks again.

Bucky rolls his eyes and gets up, sliding smoothly over Steve’s hips. Looking down, he says, “Stevie. I get that it just happened. Shit does. But if I hadn’t liked it I would have stopped. And I didn’t stop, because I liked it.” This time it’s his turn to blush. “Um. A lot.”

Steve rests his hands on the soft curve of Bucky’s sides, thumbs rubbing absently over his warm skin. “Yeah?”

Bucky’s blush deepens. “ _Yeah_ , you ass. You gonna make me say it again?”

Steve’s hand goes around the back of Bucky’s neck, gently urging him down so Steve can press their mouths together. His other hand slides up Bucky’s side, his neck, until it’s mirroring the hand anchored in Bucky’s hair.

“Yes,” breathes Steve in between kisses. “Tell me.”

Bucky groans, tightening his legs around Steve’s hips and getting closer. “Baby,” he says, kissing at Steve’s chin, down his neck, the hollow of his throat. Until Steve is gasping for breath, Bucky’s hair a tangled mess in his fingers.

Bucky bites at the side of Steve’s neck and says, “Daddy is gonna tell you _everything_.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](https://endofadream.tumblr.com) and instagram is [here](https://instagram.com/wintersoldiered), if you’re into that sort of thing! i love reviews and i love you all <3


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